An Unexpected Consequence
by cartasdeamor
Summary: When Jane decides to help Rigsby tell Grace how he feels about her, something goes amiss. This is set in the first season right after Rigsby kisses Van Pelt while hypnotized.
1. Chapter 1

Jane laughed as he lay down on his couch.

"Do I want to know what is so funny?" Lisbon propped her hip against Van Pelt's desk and hooked a thumb in her pocket.

"Nope," Jane smiled, eyes closed.

Lisbon narrowed her eyes at him.

"You can quit glaring at me," his eyes were still closed.

She folded her arms across her chest.

"I just told Rigsby he should leave for the day."

Lisbon stood upright, "What?"

"He has had a rough time of it."

"Do you think that was safe, Jane? He spent a good part of the past couple days being hypnotized. I think someone should watch him."

"That's why I sent Grace with him."

He was not surprised to feel Lisbon swat at his foot, "Jane!"

He sat up and donned his most innocent expression, "Is something wrong, Theresa?"

Her hands had dropped to her hips and a storm was brewing on her face, "You sent Van Pelt to take care of Rigsby? In his condition?"

"I am just kidding, Lisbon. She went home about an hour ago, and he just left," he stood and retrieved his jacket from the foot of the couch.

The agent sighed.

"If it will make you feel better, I'll go check on Rigsby tonight."

"No, thank you," she snorted. "I'll go check on him myself."

Jane shrugged.

Lisbon was disturbed to find that Agent Rigsby did not answer his door. Standing at his door, she took out her phone and dialed.

"Cho, here," a distinct voice sounded on the other end.

"Do you know if Rigsby had plans for tonight?" Lisbon considered the lock on the man's front door.

"No, why?"

"He isn't home."

"He has a life outside of work."

Lisbon grimaced at the implication that she did not."

"Thanks, Cho," she hung up and dialed Jane.

"Why, Lisbon," his cheery voice grated on her nerves, "what an unexpected surprise."

"Where is he, Jane?"

"Who?"

Her teeth ground together, "At least assure me he is not going to hurt himself or someone else."

"I can tell you he is in a safe place."

She sighed, knowing it was the best she was going to get.

It was a good thing he didn't tell her Wayne was not going to hurt someone, because the actions that followed were to lead to pain for him as well as others.


	2. Chapter 2

**I do not own The Mentalist or any of its characters.**

Grace Van Pelt had changed and was about to walk out the door to go to the gym when a knock sounded.

"Rigsby," she was surprised and a little uncomfortable.

"May I come in?"

Grace knew she was safe with Wayne, but she still hesitated.

He scrubbed a hand over his face, "I am sorry about what happened. Can I just come in. . . please?"

The note of uncertainty got to her. She stepped back to allow him to come in.

He spoke the instant the door closed, "Grace," his use of her first name startled her, "I am in love with you."

She stepped further from him, "Rigsby, you know we can't."

"I'll quit," he offered quickly. "I'll ask for a transfer, Grace. I'd risk my career for you, because I know that there is nothing as important to me as you are."

"Wayne?" the young woman looked him in the eye, "have you been hypnotized?"

He laughed, "Hypnotized?"

Grace narrowed her eyes, "Has Jane done this to you?"

He turned from her and began pacing, "I just realized that I could have lost you, and you would never know how I feel. . ."

"I know, Wayne," she touched him softly on the shoulder, "it just isn't a good idea."

He swung back to her, "What if I was a lawyer or a teacher. Then would it be a good idea? Would _we _be a good idea?"

Grace looked at her feet.

"I don't mind asking for a transfer, Grace. Just say you'll give it a shot."

"Okay," her words were so softly spoken he barely heard them.

Rigsby had intended only to get her to agree to a relationship, but Grace's feelings had been suppressed long enough that she was willing to give him more than that.

Rigsby awoke in the morning with a mass of red hair splayed across his bare chest. He smiled and brushed it away.

"Mmm," Grace was waking. "It isn't time to get up yet."

"I think it is," he laughed. "I need to speak to Lisbon before we get into the day."

She propped herself up on an elbow and looked down at him, "About a transfer?"

"Yes," he trailed a finger down the soft skin of her shoulder.

"Can you at least finish this case with us?"

He laughed as he sat up, "And then the next and then the next?"

She made a sound of disgust, but she did not argue with him.

Rigsby drove home to change and they met back at headquarters.

"Can I talk to you, Boss?" he was speaking to Lisbon, but he was looking at Grace.

"Something you want to share with the whole class, Rigsby?" Jane made a move to get off his couch.

Lisbon pursed her lips, "Cho, keep Jane out here. Rigsby," she pointed to her office.

Lisbon sat behind her desk, "Yeah?"

"I'm going to request a transfer."

Lisbon's eyebrows shot up, "A transfer? You have a problem working for me?"

"No," the large man sat down. "It is a personal matter."

Lisbon stood up, holding one finger in the air, "Hold on," she opened her door and shouted, "Jane!"

The consultant jumped from his seat, flashed a cocky grin at Cho, and joined the pair in the office.

"Why is he transferring?" her accusation hit him the moment the door closed.

Jane's eyes got wide, "Transferring?"

"Don't play innocent," she had her fists on her hips and she was in his face.

"May I speak to Wayne for a minute?" Jane was unfazed by her stance.

She huffed and walked out to Grace's desk.

"Something wrong, Boss?" Van Pelt turned wide eyes to her.

"I think Jane hypnotized Rigsby," Lisbon couldn't understand what Jane had to gain from the tactic or what made her think that, but she didn't like the outcome.

Lisbon was so irritated, she didn't notice the younger woman paling, "Hypnotized?"

Lisbon glanced down, and was about to comment, but the consultant exited her office, "I think he would like to speak to you now."

Lisbon stomped back into her office and closed the door.

"Well?" she glared down at Rigsby.

"Well, what?" he looked so innocent.

Lisbon didn't even know where to begin, "Did you have anything to say to me? About your job, I mean?"

His worried expression conveyed that he was clueless, "Am I in trouble."

"Never mind," she shot back at him. "Get to work."

Rigsby left, sincerely confused, and Jane reappeared in the room.

"If you ever pull a stunt like that again, I will have you drawn and quartered."

Jane, for once, did not seem to have a ready answer to her threat.

"Get out," she pointed to the door as she sat down.


	3. Chapter 3

**1. This is a very short chapter because it was the perfect place to stop.**

**2. I do not own the Mentalist.**

**3. Reviews would be nice.**

Grace Van Pelt was not stupid. She could clearly see what had happened. There would be no transfer, no relationship with Wayne, no repeats of last night.

She could feel Jane's eyes on her. She turned and glared at him – an action nobody knew she had in her.

"I didn't think. . ." he began, but she interrupted him.

"That is obvious," she spat before escaping to the bathroom.

"Don't mess with people's lives, Jane," Cho was doing paperwork, his back to the action. "It is not cool."

Rigsby came from the direction of the kitchen, "What's going on?"

Jane eyed the large sandwich in the man's hand.

Wayne shrugged, "I'm really hungry this morning."

Jane stood up without a word and left.


	4. Chapter 4

Grace tried to stay mad at Jane, she really did, but after his flowers of apology – which contained no card – she found she must forgive him. Her upbringing mandated that she let go of the grudge before it destroyed her.

"Flowers?" Wayne stood looking down at the desk, a frown on his face.

Van Pelt didn't bother looking up, "Pretty, aren't they?"

"Yeah, are they from your dad, or something?"

Grace thought it would do well to let him be jealous. She knew it wasn't Wayne's fault he didn't remember their night together, but he sure could do something about the situation now.

"Not from my dad?"

She nearly laughed at his attempt to look casual, "Oh, really? Do you have a secret admirer?"

"Not that I know of," she touched the petal of a lily.

"Oh," he took a bite of his doughnut and sat down to stare at his paperwork.

Jane watched the whole interaction with amusement.

Van Pelt glanced over at him with a blush.

"Nice flowers, Van Pelt," Lisbon came out of her office and glanced down at the bouquet.

"We were just trying to figure out who they were from," Jane rose and moved to stand in front of Rigsby's desk.

Lisbon shook her head at Jane, "I don't need to guess and neither do you."

Rigsby looked at her confused, "You aren't curious?"

Cho helped him out, "They already know," he handed some papers to Lisbon. "Here's my Jacobsen report."

"Thanks," Lisbon didn't bother glancing at the page before she turned and went back into the office.


	5. Chapter 5

**I do not own The Mentalist, and am glad because then I would have to think up all the clues he sees, and I doubt I could manage. I'm considering posting two chapters a day. . .**

Jane sat outside the door, waiting.

She emerged.

"What's the plan?" he asked the redhead the instant she reappeared.

Grace seemed startled to see him sitting there, "Jane."

He stood up, "Do you know what you are going to do?"

She blushed and pulled her blazer more tightly about herself, "About what?"

"Really?" his tone conveying his disbelief, "you want to pretend we don't both know?"

She started walking.

He followed her, speaking not softly as he did so, "You've been spending half of every morning in the bathroom for the past three weeks. You've started wearing your hair back in a braid every morning. You've stopped drinking coffee. Last week you went to the drugstore during the lunch hour and emerged from the bathroom with red eyes."

"Fine!" she spun back to him and hissed through her teeth, "We both know the truth. You don't have to announce it to the entire agency."

Jane took her by the elbow and walked into a conference room, "So, back to the original question :What are you going to do?"

"I am considering my options."

"Abortion?"

"Never."

"Adoption?"

She sat down, "Maybe."

"You won't start showing for another three months or so."

"How do you know how far along . . .?"

"I know," he took the chair opposite her.

"That's right," she rested her face in her hands. "You were the cause of this."

"Don't say that too loudly," he quipped. "People will get the wrong idea."

Grace lifted her face and shot him a look that displayed a certain amount of anger, "Believe me, nobody is going to get that idea, Jane."

He barely repressed a smile."Are you going to tell him?"

"I can't. He doesn't remember any of it."

"He has a right to know."

"If he isn't man enough to own up to his feelings while he is fully aware of himself, I don't want him."

"Harsh."

"Honest," Grace argued with him.

Patrick leaned back in his chair, arms folded across his chest, "I think I like what pregnancy hormones do to you."

"What?"

"You're almost aggressive."

She stood up and stalked out of the room.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I just ate an entire bowl of popcorn. Oops, not that one, silly girl. What I mean to say is that I do not own The Mentalist.**

"Jane," Lisbon called from her doorway.

He rose and passed through the others on his way to answer her beckon.

"What'd you do now?" Cho spoke softly.

Jane honestly did not know. He thought his actions as of late had been rather mild.

"Sit," Lisbon commanded, not looking up.

"How nice to see you, Agent Lisbon," he did as he was told while he carried on his monologue. "How am I today? Glad you asked. I'm just fine, a little achy from being tackled yesterday."

"What is up with Van Pelt?"

"Van Pelt?" he smiled up at her.

"Don't play innocent. She's got rings under her eyes every morning."

"Maybe she's taken to the bottle."

"We'd smell that."

"She's got a boyfriend," Jane speculated.

"She doesn't have that look, she's not on her phone an inordinate amount of time."

"You should go into the psychic business with those powers of observation, Theresa."

The woman slapped her hand down on her desk, "Kill the act, Jane. What is going on?"

"What makes you think I know?"

"Jane."

He stood up, "You'll have to ask her. You and Cho both told me to stay out of her personal business."

Lisbon watched him leave with no small amount of frustration.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Mentalist (or I would probably be working on real plots instead of fluff).**

Grace was afraid the time was fast approaching when she could no longer hide her growing belly.

"How was the appointment today?" Jane's conversational tone as the crossed through the parking lot made Van Pelt glance around to make sure nobody was nearby.

"Fine."

"Halfway there," he smiled as he opened the car door for her.

"Yep," she slid in and pulled the belt firmly over her hips.

He climbed into the driver's side, "Did you find out what it is yet?"

"Yes."

"But you're not going to tell me."

"I haven't told my parents yet."

"Ah."

Grace pointed to the corner, "Turn there."

"How have your parents taken the news."

"They aren't happy."

"They want you to move home?"

She ignored the question and pointed again, "Pull over here."

"You know you aren't supposed to be out in the field like this."

"I'm telling Lisbon as soon as this case is closed," she climbed from the car, effectively ending the conversation.

Lisbon and the others had followed in another car. The senior agent neared Jane even as she watched Grace, "You two have a nice chat?"

"Yes, quite pleasant."

"What do you know?"

"Let's go arrest Marvin."

She grabbed his arm, "It has gone on long enough. Just tell me."

"If you want to know, we should go arrest Marvin."

"I do not see the correlation."

"You will," he grinned at her and walked up the driveway.

Three hours later the paperwork was well underway. Van Pelt got up from her seat, shot a wary look in Jane's direction, and headed into Lisbon's office.

"Can I speak with you, Boss?"

"Sure," Lisbon hoped this was going to be the revelation. "Have a seat."

Van Pelt ignored the command, preferring to stand with her hands clasped in front of herself instead.

"I need to be removed from field duty."

Lisbon raised an eyebrow, "You have worked hard to be allowed in the field."

"And I appreciate your trust."

"Why the change?"

"I'm. . .I've discovered that I am. . .I thought it would be better. . ."

"Spit it out," Lisbon snapped at the red-faced agent.

"I'm pregnant."

A rush of thoughts tore through Lisbon's brain. Van Pelt taking afternoon's off, Jane's flowers, Van Pelt having long discussions with Jane, Van Pelt's declining appearance, Jane's hovering.

"Jane," Lisbon's hoarse whisper barely made it to Van Pelt's ears.

"He knows," Van Pelt acknowledged.

Theresa stood up, the blood pounding through her head, "He is in so much trouble."

Van Pelt wondered how Lisbon made the connection about the consultant and her pregnancy. Grace did sit down now. It was bad enough to be impregnated by a man who didn't remember it, but to have your boss know that your baby's father was hypnotized at the time of conception. . .it was too humiliating to bear. She sat down heavily.

Lisbon threw open her door and shouted for the man in question.

He cleared his throat and left his position at Cho's desk. He might not have been so eager to join the ladies had he recognized her over-the-top anger. He saw it as he passed through the door, but it was too late by then.

"What were you thinking?" she seethed at him.

"That it was not my business to tell you," he told her calmly.

They were chest to chest and Lisbon's fists were balled at her side.

Grace felt guilty, allowing Jane to take the heat for her, but she knew better than to insert herself between them.

"Not your business? I've been endangering the life of an agent and her unborn child, and you say it is not your business?"

"Right," Jane didn't break eye contact even though she seemed to be shooting darts from hers.

Lisbon looked like she might breath fire, "Since when has that stopped you?"

"She told you. She wasn't hurt. No harm done."

"No harm done?" Lisbon's voice dropped to a whisper.

"Do you know what this could do to her career?"

"There are more important things at stake than her career," he reminded her.

"Do you realize what this could do to your position here?"

He cocked his head.

Grace was beginning to wish she had told Lisbon sooner. The boss couldn't seriously be thinking of punishing Jane for not divulging her information. She was about to intercede when Jane turned to her.

"Would mind giving us a moment, Grace? I think Lisbon and I need to clear something up."

Grace moved from the room like her tail was on fire.

"Lisbon," Jane waited until the door closed behind him, "I can see what you are thinking."

"So, now you're a psychic?"

His laugh held no humor, "Sit down before you explode."

"I am so beyond that," she paced away from him.

Jane turned the rod on her blinds to makes sure nobody could see them.

"Please, sit," he perched on the edge of the coffee table as an act of good faith.

She acquiesced to the point of resting on the arm of the sofa.

"Tell me what has you so upset."

"Don't start that. You know why I am upset."

"It would help if you said it aloud."

She looked away, rolled her eyes, and then looked back, "Van Pelt is pregnant."

"You are upset because Van Pelt is pregnant. Why?"

"Because," she pointed a finger in the direction of the woman out in the bull pen and another at Jane, "because this shouldn't be happening."

He smiled, but it wasn't his typical cocky grin, "This," he pointed to himself and then back in Grace's general direction, "didn't happen."

"What?"

"I knew about the baby, but I am not the father."

Lisbon frowned.

"Theresa," he took her hand, "do you think I am capable of a normal relationship?"

She shook her head.

"Do you think I would use Van Pelt that way?"

Lisbon chewed her lower lip, then shook her head.

He pulled her closer to himself, "If I ever find myself ready for that kind of relationship again, I'm not going to go looking for it in a child."

Lisbon's eyes had gone wide, "You're not?"

"Nope," his voice was a mere whisper. "I'd prefer a woman. Someone who understood my past and could love me with all my faults and quirks."

Lisbon blinked, "Good luck finding that one," her voice didn't sound all that convincing, but Jane quirked a smile anyway.

She dropped to the seat of the couch, "Sorry."

"Forgiven."

"So who is the father?" she leaned against the cushion.

"Irrelevant."

"It better not be Rigsby."

"There's one way to find out," Jane suggested.

"Ask her?" Lisbon scoffed.

Jane stood up and went to the door, "Lisbon, I'm disappointed in you. What would be the fun in that?"

"Grace," he spoke just loudly enough for the young woman to hear, "Lisbon needs to talk to you."

As the redhead was approaching, Jane lifted a finger of warning toward his boss.

"Yes?" Grace seemed nervous.

"Lisbon thinks it only right you tell the rest of the team."

Van Pelt's face paled.

He shrugged at her discomfort, "Could you ask them to come in here?"

Van Pelt swallowed and went to do as she was told.

Lisbon stood and went to stand beside her desk.

When the men had joined them, Jane spoke, "Van Pelt has some happy news to share with us."

That woman shot a look of disgust toward the consultant.

Lisbon watched Rigsby.

Seeing that Jane was challenging her, Van pelt lifted her chin and spoke quickly, "I'm pregnant."

Cho's brows lifted for a brief moment before his face settled back into its normal state.

Rigsby, on the other hand, looked as though he had been hit by a truck. He didn't inhale for some thirty seconds. He finally regained his breath, but the muscle in his jaw would not stop twitching.

"Congratulations," Cho nodded as he passed out of the office and back to his desk.

Rigsby's teeth were grinding so hard, Lisbon feared he would destroy all the enamel.

"Thank you, Van Pelt," Lisbon excused her.

Grace had the discipline not to look at Wayne on the way out, but her glare told Jane they would be speaking later.

"Rigsby," Jane suggested, "Lisbon was just saying you hadn't recorded your time in the gym this week. Perhaps now would be a good opportunity to do so."

He looked confused, then relieved. The large man nodded and then left the floor.

"He has more gym time recorded than the rest of us," Lisbon noted.

"He's better off down there."

"What was that supposed to prove?"

"He was pretty upset about the announcement."

"Maybe she never told him."

"I'm sure she didn't," Jane agreed, "but how do you think he would feel about having a baby – especially with her?"

She shrugged.

"He'd be thrilled," Jane prompted Lisbon. "He might be upset she didn't tell him, but he would have chased her out of here and confronted her. Wayne Rigsby looked like a man who just received a death blow. That news cut him to the core."

"Poor Rigsby," she sat down.

Jane turned to leave.

"Wait a minute," she stopped him.

He turned back.

"Who is the father?"

"Since it is apparently not her co-worker, I don't see how that is any of your business."

"But you know?"

He didn't answer with words, but his silence told the truth of it.

"Will he take care of Van Pelt and the baby?"

"If she lets him."

Lisbon sighed.

"Anything else?"

She thought for a moment, "How far along is she?"

"Twenty weeks."

Lisbon's eyes grew.

Jane left on a chuckle.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Mentalist. I do, however, own a piano, a trumpet, a violin . . .**

Rigsby couldn't stand it anymore. Every day Grace looked more and more beautiful. He had heard that pregnant women were supposed to glow. It certainly was true of her. Van Pelt blossomed as she grew large with child – another man's child.

It was good she was not out in the field with them. At least he had that reprieve. He volunteered for all sorts of errands, just to leave her presence.

"I appreciate the offer, Rigsby," Lisbon was refusing him, "but I don't mind going. Jane and Cho are going with me."

"You need all three of you to go down and talk to a bunch of third graders?" Rigsby wasn't going to be left alone in the office with Van Pelt if he could help it.

"I'm going because I was the one they requested. Cho is going because he looks scary, and Jane is going because I don't trust him right now. I'm afraid he'll slip back over to the Wetterling house and stir up trouble again."

"I could keep an eye on him," Rigsby grasped at his last straw.

She snorted, "Like you did the last time? He got away from you and accused the congressman of having an affair with his secretary."

He cringed.

"On national television."

Rigsby gave up the fight.

"Afraid to be alone with me, Wayne?" Van Pelt hit the nail on the head as soon as it was just the two of them.

He turned to her, "No. . .of course not. I'm just restless."

"Mmhm."

"I'm going to go get something to eat. You need anything?"

Grace wondered if she could impose on him.

He smiled, "I can see you are thinking about it."

"Would you make me a sandwich?"

"Sure. Turkey?" he knew it was usually her favorite.

"Um, no. Could you just put pickles, lettuce, sauerkraut, and mustard on some bread, please?"

His eyes widened.

"I just restocked the fridge so I know they're all in there."

He smiled a little and left, returning shortly with a sandwich for himself and – what he thought – a mess for her.

"Enjoy, I guess," he handed it over.

"I crave vinegar all the time," she admitted, taking a bite.

He watched her chew for a moment before biting into his own sandwich.

Grace made a noise of approval and smiled at him.

He laughed, "That is seriously nasty business there."

She patted her round tummy, "I would have thought so seven months ago, but now it is ambrosia."

He forced himself to look at the swell under her hand.

She felt a clench of sympathy for him, but didn't know what to do to ease his pain.

He finally spoke, "Are you still planning on flying back to see your parents this weekend?"

"Yeah," she answered and then swallowed her bite of food. "Mom said she's been baking."

Rigsby nodded.

"I've invited them to come out and visit, but they probably won't – at least not until this one is born."

He looked down at the remainder of his sandwich, no longer hungry, "I bet their excited about that."

"They're getting there," Grace's voice was soft. "They had hoped I would be married first."

"Do they know the. . .have they met him?"

Grace shook her head, tears pooling in her eyes, "Not yet."

He looked up at her and she could see the pain etched on his face, "Do you know what you're having?"

She chewed her lip.

"Or is that a secret?"

She shrugged, "It kind of is, but I don't mind telling you." _Because that is the type of secret the mother would share with the father._

His eyes brightened.

Van Pelt wanted to throw herself at him that very moment, but it would only cause pain, "It's a boy."


	9. Chapter 9

**Sorry this has taken so long. I've been trying for two days to upload a chapter, but the site kept shutting down on me. Consequently. I will add three chapters now.**

**And, I do not own The Mentalist.**

Grace stepped off the plane and looked for her mother. It was not Elaine Van Pelt, however, that met the young woman, but a solidly built young man with fiery red hair.

"Aaron," she smiled and reached out her arms toward her brother.

"Wow, Grace," he embraced her, "you really are knocked up."

"Nice," she grimaced.

"Mom couldn't leave her cleaning long enough to come get you. "

They laughed together at that.

"You didn't bring my sweet nephew along?"

Aaron shook his head, "Your sweet nephew, as you put it, is taking a nap today because he threw a temper tantrum when Jill told him to drink his milk."

Grace agreed that little Tyler should definitely be held accountable for that.

Grace caught up with her brother on the ride home from the airport. She arrived on the farm to see that her brother, Luke, was there awaiting her return.

"Whoa," he ran toward her, "you brought back a beached whale, Aaron."

Grace socked him in the shoulder.

Lillian Van Pelt came running from the house to greet her youngest, "Gracie," she wrapped her daughter in a hug, "you look beautiful."

Her father, Daniel, was happy to see her even if he did not show it so willingly. Throughout the weekend he kept glancing at her belly, but he never commented on it.

Grace was sitting at the table enjoying one last piece of pie before her return to California when Tyler decided it was his turn to ask about the baby.

"When the baby comes out, will he play football with me?"

Grace laughed, "Probably. His dad played football in college."

Luke spoke around the bite in his mouth, "Well, there's one point in his favor."

Lillian shot him a look of reproof, "We aren't looking for points in favor or out of favor, young man."

He shrugged and continued eating.

"I do wish you would at least tell us his name, dear," Lillian pressed.

"Mom," Grace knew this was difficult for them, "there are reasons I cannot explain. We've been over this."

"But he isn't married, right?" her mother had asked the question no less than five times.

"He isn't. And, yes, he knows I am having a baby. But beyond that, I hate to say. It is very complicated."

Her family drove her to the airport, hugged her goodbye, and promised to visit once the baby arrived.


	10. Chapter 10

Wayne was determined to fight the feelings of jealousy he had regarding Van Pelt and her pregnancy. As far as he could see, the man was no longer in the picture, and Rigsby was not going to lose the chance to earn her trust and her love.

It would probably be harder to convince Van Pelt to see him in a romantic light now. She had been hurt by the other guy – he could see that. She also had a lot to deal with: her career, a baby, her parents' disapproval. But he wanted to help. He was nothing like that other guy, and he would prove it to her.

"How was your trip?" he handed her a sandwich.

She glanced down at it and smiled, "It was good. My nephew is getting so big. My parents look good."

"And they didn't give you too much trouble?" he pulled up a chair.

Grace picked up the sandwich, "No. They don't agree with my decision to raise the baby on my own, but they aren't going to fight me."

"Will they fly out to be here for the birth?"

"I think Mom would like to, but they will probably wait until he comes."

Rigsby's brow furrowed, "So, who is going to be with you?"

Grace wished she could ask him, wished he would volunteer.

"I'm not sure. Lisbon said I could call her."

Wayne looked down at his hands, "You could call me too, I mean if you can't get a hold of her or she's busy."

Grace reached out and touched his shoulder, "Thanks, Wayne. I'll keep that in mind."


	11. Chapter 11

Grace pulled the file from the cabinet. Of course it had to be in the bottom drawer. Now that she was crouched down like this, how was she supposed to get back up.

"Do you need a hand?" Jane was standing behind her.

She allowed him to pull her back to her feet, "Thanks."

"Don't mention it. Do you have an appointment this afternoon?"

She scowled, "I do, but how do you know. I am sure I didn't tell you?"

"I'm reading your mind," he teased her as he escorted her back to her chair.

She sat down with a huff.

"You wear the same shoes every time you have an appointment. I assume it is because they are easier to slip off when they weigh you."

Van Pelt looked down at her feet – needing to stretch them far in front of herself to do so – and smiled at the truth of the statement.

"You should have Rigsby drive you," he whispered.

Grace blushed and shook her head, "He's done too much already."

Jane leaned in so he could speak without being overheard, "He is the father whether he knows it or not, so it is his duty. If it was not his duty, he still would jump at the chance because he loves you that much."

As he was straightening, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Yes, Lisbon?" he turned to see her face, nearly expressionless. This could not be good.

"I need to speak with you."

Jane followed her to her office and perched a hip on the edge of her desk, "What is it?"

"The local police just found a woman dead in her apartment?"

While that was a tragedy, it was not out of the order to receive such news in the homicide department. He waited for her to continue.

"Her nails, the face on the wall, all of it. . ."

"Red John," he felt the familiar bile rising up in his throat.

"That's not all."

Patrick wasn't sure he could handle more. He braced his hands on either side of him and nodded for her to continue.

"The husband came home and heard something. He attacked the perpetrator as he was finishing the wall."

"They caught Red John?" Jane thought his own voice sounded so very far away.

"Not exactly," she stepped closer. "The husband picked up a lamp and beat him over the head. He then took the knife and stabbed him several times. Red John, or, rather Brent Hasher, is lying in a coma. They don't expect him to live through the night."

Jane swallowed, "How do you," he shook his head, "how do you know it is really Red John? Maybe it is a copycat? Or maybe the husband was trying to kill his wife and some random man."

"Jane," she gripped his arms, "we sent the uniforms to Hasher's house. They have found pictures of all the crime scenes. They also found lists of people."

"What kinds of lists?" Patrick was still in a daze.

She didn't answer immediately. That got his attention.

"What kinds of lists."

She sat next to him and put her arm around him. He was going to need it.

"People I know."

He felt her head nod.

He turned his face away from her, "Dead?"

"Not all," she admitted, then she added, "they were numbered."

"So he had a plan."

"Yes."

"It was about me."

"It didn't start that way."

He tried to get up, but she pulled him back.

"They were all dead or going to die because of me."

"But no more, Patrick," she pressed her face into his shoulder

"Were you on the list?"

She was silent, but he knew the answer.

"What number?"

"Please don't," he could hear the tears in her voice, but he couldn't let it stop him.

"What number?"

"Three more after Simone Lester."

"Simone Lester?"

"Yesterday's vic."

"Do I know her?" his usual assuredness gone.

"I couldn't find a connection."

Jane rose and began to pace the room, tearing his hands so roughly through his curls that Lisbon thought he would yank them from his head. Finally he dropped to the couch.

"I need to see him."

"Not yet," she warned, knowing this was not going to go over well.

He glared up at her.

"I've been ordered to keep you from the hospital. There is a restraining order against you. If you show up there, they have orders to take you down, arrest you, whatever it takes."

He buried his face in his hands and groaned.

She went to sit beside him, laying a hand on his back, "I'm sorry. I know you need this for closure, but if this is really Red John, I promise you will have the chance to see him before they bury him."

"Can I chop him to pieces? Can I watch his life blood flow from him drop by drop? Can I bring back everybody he killed after I issued my thoughtless challenge?" With that, the man collapsed into sobs.

Lisbon pulled his head into her lap and sat with him. Cho had heard the noise and came to check on them, but, upon looking through the glass, decided it would be better to leave them alone. The agent positioned himself near the door and refused entry to everyone and anyone who approached.

After an hour, Jane fell into a troubled, but heavy sleep. Lisbon gently lifted his head – soaked with sweat – from her lap. She rose from the couch and, without bothering to work the kinks from her legs, exited her office.

"Thanks, Cho," she knew what he had done for them.

He nodded and went back to his own desk.

"Is he okay?" Grace spoke quietly even though it would take an earthquake to rouse the sleeping man.

"He will be," Lisbon answered, hoping it was true.


	12. Chapter 12

Brent lived through the night. He lived and he woke up. He was surprised to find himself in a hospital, more surprised to find he had armed guards in his room.

Lisbon pulled some strings and got Jane in to see the man.

"Remember," she spoke to him as they stood in the hallway, "you are not to so much as speak to him."

"I won't," he acknowledged.

She turned him toward herself almost roughly, "If you make a move toward him, you will be removed and will never be given this chance again."

He nodded.

Lisbon entered the room, "Mr. Hasher, I would introduce myself, but I assume you already know me."

"Theresa Lisbon," he smiled broadly. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Hasher. I am pleased you are contained and the world will be a better place."

"Such words," he tsked at her. "They could get you in trouble."

"I think not," she said, surprised the man had not yet bothered to acknowledge Jane's presence, "because who will ever know?"

"You mean because the word of a cop is going to carry so much more than the word of a mid-level lawyer? I still have friends in high places."

Theresa smiled in a manner that made Patrick's blood nearly freeze in his veins, "I mean," she rocked slightly on the balls of her feet, " because you are certain to die today, Mr. Hasher."

His Cheshire grin tightened but did not disappear, "I am told I was thought to be a dead man last night."

"I told them to do all they could to wake you – to keep you alive. And they did, but you have a bleed in your brain that cannot be stopped. It will soon kill you."

"You are preventing them from treating me?"

"Certainly not," Lisbon spoke honestly. "I would love to see you stand trial, but it is not to be. You should be grateful, however."

"That I am to die?"

"That you are not to die at Jane's hands. As painful as this brain bleed may be, it will be far more merciful than he."

Hasher looked for the first time at Jane, "Have you hypnotized them all into believing there is nothing to be done," the man's eyes grew wider. "Have you offered them money?"

He tried to rise but found he was cuffed to the bed.

"They're trying to kill me," he screamed out.

The guard stuck his head into the room, "Everything okay?"

Lisbon shrugged, "I think he is delusional. We haven't stepped any closer than this."

The guard shrugged and went outside to find a doctor.

"Why did you do it?" Lisbon asked the man who was now writhing on the bed.

"It was fun," he cackled. "I have the power to give life or take it away. I am god."

Lisbon looked at the door, opening to admit the doctor. That man glared at the agent and her consultant.

"I told you he shouldn't be disturbed."

Lisbon didn't back down, "You told me he is going to die today. I need answers before he does."

"The man has the right to die in peace."

"Believe me," Jane spoke through his teeth as he strode from the room, "he gave up that right a long time ago."

Lisbon watched the doctor administer a sedative.

Then she stood and watched Hasher calm. She pulled up a chair to watch his vitals. Jane reappeared some time later with a cup of coffee.

"Do you want to wait with me?"

He took the other chair.

Within an hour, the man's heart rate dropped to fifty, then forty. His respirations slowed to a few per minute. Finally, after two hours of waiting, the man shuddered and died. The doctor, hearing the alarm, came in to declare the time of death and remove all wires.

Jane and Theresa followed his body to the morgue and waited for the medical examiner to arrive to begin the autopsy.

"How long will it be?" Lisbon asked the man.

"A couple hours," he glanced at the body.

"Call as soon as you are done. We'll be back."

Lisbon secured an empty room for them and told Jane to lie down and rest. He refused, of course.

"I'm not a child, Lisbon. I don't need a nap in the middle of the day."

"Fine," she admitted to trying to coddle him, "is there anything I can do to make this easier?"

He sat on the edge of the bed and grabbed her hand, pulling her toward him, "You've done plenty."

He wrapped his arms around her and held her. They sat together like that on the bed awaiting the examiner's call. When her phone finally buzzed at her, she was surprised.

"Lisbon."

"This is Dr. Orange. I'm finished."

"We'll be right down."

Gruesome or not, Lisbon knew Jane needed to see the man's body dissected.

The viewing was short. Dr. Orange gave them the information they needed to know. Patrick saw the body parts removed. Red John was not coming back to life.

Lisbon led a silent man to her SUV. She dared not take him back home, so she brought him to her apartment.

"Rosalind could identify him," he offered as she guided him into her guest room.

"Good idea," Lisbon made a note to call about that as soon as she had him settled.

"It's only four in the afternoon," he pointed out as she gently pushed him onto the futon.

"You didn't sleep last night," she pulled his feet up and pressed his chest until he lay down.

"How do you know?"

"I know," she tugged at his shoes and covered him with a fleece throw that had been draped over one end.

Lisbon left him and went down to the kitchen to make her call.

"Cho, can you get in touch with Rosalind Harker to see if she could make a positive i.d?"

"Van Pelt already called her and Rigsby is on his way to pick her up."

"Thanks," Lisbon found herself grateful once again for her competent team.

"How's Jane?"

"I'm not sure."

"Hm."

"Call me when you know something."

"K."

Lisbon dug out some tea for later and went to look in on Jane. He was not sleeping. Of course.

"Finding anything interesting?" she sat on the vacant futon watching him search her computer files.

"I didn't realize you were such an avid ebay shopper."

She rolled her eyes, "I like to buy birthday and Christmas gifts online. It is easier."

"And less personal."

She smiled at the little argument. Maybe he was going to be okay after all.

"You were trying to get Hasher to have a stroke," his accusation had no bite.

"His death was inevitable," she justified her actions.

"So is mine; so is yours."

"It was imminent, and we have no way of knowing I sped it along."

"You did it so I wouldn't have to wait," he joined her. "Or so I wouldn't do something rash.

She scooted over so she could see his face, "I wanted some answers. I was trying to get answers."

He took her hand in his and lifted it to his lips, "You are my hero."

Theresa blushed and pulled her hand away, "Don't be silly."

He just grinned back at her, and she wondered if it was just her imagination or if it truly reached his eyes.


	13. Chapter 13

**This chapter is very short, I next one is long enough to make up for it, however.**

**I don't own The Mentalist.**

"Rosalind positively i.d. the body," Cho said as soon as Lisbon answered.

"Thanks, Cho," she closed her eyes. Was the nightmare finally over?

"Cho?" Jane pressed a cup of tea into her hands as she pressed 'end.'

"Yes. Rosalind identified Hasher as Red John."

Jane sat down hard.

"You okay with this?" she set aside her cup. "I know it isn't what you hoped for."

"No," he said, "but it was probably helpful for Simone Lester's husband."

Lisbon nodded. That man would have the closure of knowing he had stopped his wife's killer.

"I'm glad for him."

"And for you?"

"I watched him die. I saw his corpse. I will be okay."

Lisbon took a sip of her tea, "Glad to hear it."


	14. Chapter 14

"Are you sure you should be here, Van Pelt?" Lisbon watched the woman rise slowly from her chair.

"I'm sure," she laughed. "My mom milked cows the day I was born. I'm not even due for another week. I'm sure I can handle a little typing."

Rigsby was scowling, "Did your mother have ankles swollen to twice their normal size?"

Cho choked on his coffee and Jane patted him firmly on his back.

Van Pelt narrowed her eyes at the man, "Well, thank you so much for that, Rigsby. It was just what I needed to hear right now."

Lisbon coughed to cover her laugh and escaped to her office.

Jane smiled broadly at the pair.

Van Pelt rose to make another trip to the bathroom.

A few nights later Rigsby awoke to his phone ringing, "Rigsby," he tried to decipher the numbers on his alarm clock, but couldn't quite manage.

"It's Grace."

He was instantly awake and rooting around his drawer for some clean jeans, "The baby?"

"I think so," her voice sounded so far away.

He managed to throw on some clothes as he spoke to her, "How far apart are the contractions?"

"Seven minutes?"

"Are they bad?" he tried to shove his feet into his shoes as he filled his pockets with all the necessities.

"No," she gasped making him think she must be lying.

"Have you called the hospital to let them know you are coming?"

"No," the word squeezed out.

"Okay, Grace," he left his apartment and dashed toward his car, "don't talk until it is over."

She made a noise of agreement.

He broke every speed limit on the way to get her, but had his badge available in case he was stopped.

Grace was standing by her door, bag beside her when he arrived. She opened it before he could knock.

"You in the middle of one?" he looked at her face. "We can just stand here and wait it out."

"No," she laughed a little. "I was just looking at your outfit."

He looked down, "Great," he muttered. "Just great."

"Do you want to come in and turn it around?" she asked of his shirt.

"No," he picked up her bag and took her arm, "Let's just do it at the hospital. I mean," he opened the car door and helped her in, "I'll do it."

She laughed and tried to buckle herself in. Rigsby smiled at the attempt, "Let me help you with that."

Seeing she was not too uncomfortable, Rigsby did not chance the trip to the hospital but drove moderately.

Van Pelt had two contractions during the trip and was beginning a third as they pulled into the ER lot.

"Just breathe through it, honey," he rubbed her back as he spoke.

Van Pelt leaned forward and did as she was told.

When the pain eased, Rigsby helped her from the car and hurried her into the ER.

"Are you preregistered?" the receptionist had too large a smile for someone working at three a.m.

"Yes," Rigsby knew Grace would have taken care of that. She smiled at him for answering for her.

"If you would have a seat, we'll have someone from o.b. come down to escort you up."

Rigsby couldn't sit. He paced the floor, watching Grace sit calmly on one of the vinyl seats.

"First baby?" a middle aged woman smiled at him as he passed by.

"Uh," he wasn't interested in explaining the whole situation, but he didn't want to lie. "Yeah."

"Your wife looks pretty calm."

Rigsby looked at the woman across the room, his love for her making his heart feel as though it would explode, "She usually is."

Just then another contraction hit. Rigsby nodded at the woman and went to help Grace find a comfortable position. He knelt in front of her and she leaned against him.

"They're getting closer," he whispered into her hair.

"I know that," her words held a little bite, but he didn't take offense.

"Just means the baby will be here that much sooner."

She nodded into his neck, gripping his upper arms with a strength he didn't know she possessed.

By the time it had passed, the ob nurse was standing beside them, "Are they getting closer?"

Wayne looked at his watch, "About five minutes now, I'd say."

Grace allowed him to help her to her feet, but she declined a wheelchair.

Consequently, she ended up leaning heavily on Rigsby part of the way up. The next contraction hit so hard, she had no strength afterward. Wayne took it in stride. He simply lifted her into his arms and carried her off the elevator.

The nurse smiled, "I'll find you that wheelchair now."

He was loathe to put her down, but he knew she would be more comfortable in the chair so he gently deposited his burden as soon as the nurse reappeared.

The nurse did not ask Rigsby to leave while she helped Grace change nor while she examined her. Grace didn't seem to mind, so Rigsby simply averted his eyes and remained.

"Would you like anything for the pain?"

"Not yet," Grace shook her head, keeping her eyes on Rigsby. "I think I can handle it right now."

The nurse smiled at the young couple. By the lack of wedding rings, she guessed they were still unmarried, but it was clear the woman gained her strength from the man beside her.

"Just don't wait too long. After six, we can't give you anything."

Grace nodded.

Wayne lookedup, "What is she at now?"

"Five, but since this is your first, it will probably take a while to get there."

Rigsby watched as Grace prepared for another contraction. She rose from her sitting position and leaned against the bed. He held her steady, encouraging her to keep breathing.

When it was over, he rubbed her back and helped her sit back down.

"Maybe you would like to try the whirlpool," the nurse suggested.

Wayne looked at Grace, asking her with his expression. She nodded.

"Okay," he said.

"I'll get it ready."

Grace was still wearing her underwear and a sports bra. Despite the fact that Rigsby had seen her in less, he had no memory of it and there was no way she wanted him to see her in the altogether right now. She would go in as she was.

The nurse helped her into the tub. It felt wonderful, but she wanted him in the room with her.

"Could you hand me that towel?" she asked the nurse who did so, "and then could you see if Rigsby would come in here?"

The nurse laughed, "Rigsby?" she had been introduced to him, but apparently didn't catch his last name.

"Wayne," Grace panted out as she felt another pain forthcoming.

The nurse rose and went to get him from the room. Grace lay the towel over her. It didn't cover much, but it helped some.

He knelt beside the tub and pulled her head against his shoulder, supporting her.

As it eased she looked up at him, "Your shirt is still on backwards," she laughed.

He looked down, grimaced and ripped his shirt off, intending to turn it around. However, the nurse chose that moment to reappear.

"Oh," she smiled, "I see you're one step ahead of me. I was going to tell you that some couples find it helpful for the daddy to get in the tub to hold Mama up. I'll leave you alone then. Just call me if you need anything. I won't come in unannounced again."

Grace looked up at him, her face on fire, "Sorry about that, Rigsby."

"It's okay, Van Pelt," he brushed her damp hair from her face. "I could have said something too."

She smiled, but it was cut short by another contraction. They seemed to be less intense now that she was in the water, but it was hard for her to get comfortable between. Wayne knew what he had to do. He stood up and slipped his shoe and socks off before stepping back to unfasten and drop his jeans.

Grace didn't say a word. She just leaned forward to make room for him. Once he was in the tub, he pulled her back against his chest and wrapped his arms around her.

So comfortable was the position that Grace actually fell asleep. She barely roused for the contractions, just making soft groaning noises to indicate they were still occurring.

At some point, Grace's towel slipped from her belly. Rigsby then got to see the beautiful expanse of her skin. Occasionally, he could see a foot or elbow move beneath the surface.

The contractions were getting more frequent and one must have been harder than the previous ones because Grace woke up. As soon as the pain subsided, she began looking for the towel.

"It slipped off so I threw it out of the tub. It seemed like the friction was bothering you."

She didn't try to pull away from him, but he could feel her tense up.

"How long have we been in here?"

"About an hour and a half."

She nodded.

"Are you cold?"

She shrugged.

He toed the warm water knob and then tested the temperature with his foot.

She laughed softly, "Very talented feet."

He chuckled.

"Can you reach another towel?"

He glanced behind himself. It might be possible.

"Why? Do you want to get out?"

She shook her head.

"You want to cover your belly so I can't see it."

She nodded.

"I think you would be more comfortable without it, Grace."

She probably would have argued, but another contraction hit. She struggled to sit up, so he pulled her up into his arms, rubbing her belly as he whispered nonsensical words into her hair.

"I know you didn't mean to get this involved, Wayne."

"What do you mean?" he was still rubbing her belly.

"You have to carry me, and hold me up, and now you have to see me at my ugliest."

Risgby eased her back against her chest, "I don't mind the carrying or supporting, Grace. I had an idea what I was volunteering for when I said I would do this. And as for ugly," he laughed, "you've never looked ugly a day in your life."

She pointed to her protruding gut, "Are you saying this isn't ugly, grotesque?" tears laced her words.

He wrapped his legs around hers and reached forward to touch her stomach with both hands, "This is beautiful, Grace. Your belly, your face, the rest of your body. All of you is beautiful."

Grace needed to tell Wayne the truth, and had not the fiercest of all contractions ripped through her at that moment, she probably would have.

When it was over, he reached for the call light, "That was worse. I'm going to get your perky nurse in here."

Grace attempted a laugh.

"Can I help you?"

"I think Grace needs to get out of the tub," he wondered how they were going to do this delicately, but it wasn't his first concern.

"I'll be right in."

Rigsby eased himself out from under Grace and stepped out of the tub.

Now Grace did laugh. She couldn't see him since he was standing behind her, but she knew what he was doing, "You should have stayed where you were. It would have been a bonus for the nurse."

He finished wrapping the towel around himself and reached for another one, "I am not interested in providing that kind of bonus," he pulled her to her feet and helped her from the tub.

Her undergarments were wet and she was going to need to remove them. Again Wayne came up with the solution.

"Let's wait out this next contraction and then you can change into the dry gown."

He was smart to wait. It hit just after the last word left his mouth.

"Everything okay in there?" perky nurse called out.

"We'll be out in a minute and a half," he spoke loudly enough to be heard.

The contraction lasted nearly that long, and then Wayne turned around so Grace could get into her gown. The bra was no problem. The panties were.

"You okay?" he asked, resisting the urge to look.

"No," she admitted. "I think I need the nurse."

"Put on the gown."

She did so.

He turned and opened the door, "I think she could use some help with her wardrobe," he told the nurse.

The nurse gladly took charge, leading the laboring woman from the bathroom.

Rigsby closed the door to strip off his wet shorts and pull on his jeans. His shirt had gotten a little damp in the process of exiting the tub, but he donned it anyhow.

By the time he got back into the room, Grace was lying down with her knees up. She was crying.

"Is it really bad?" he hurried to her side and took her hand.

"I want drugs, but she says I am too far along."

Wayne had to swallow his smile at her petulant tone. He looked at the nurse, "She passed six?"

"Flew past it," the nurse removed her glove, "and seven and eight. The only thing we can give her now is an epidural."

"So, give it to her," he instructed.

"I'll call and order it, but we will have to wait for the anesthesiologist to come do it."

Grace sobbed.

"Perhaps if you sat behind her like you did in the tub, you could support her while she waits."

So he did, but the anesthesiologist did not show up for half an hour.

Grace had tried standing, kneeling, crouching and lying on her side, but nothing was making her more comfortable.

The nurse came in with Grace's doctor, "Well, Grace, I hear we are going to see your son very soon."

Grace, at the moment, was lying on her side, using Rigsby as a pillow to shore her up. She groaned.

"Agent Rigsby," the doctor smiled at the man he had met at a couple of Grace's appointments, "so nice to see you again."

Rigsby only nodded, "Is someone coming to give her something?"

"I'm just going to check her to see how far along she is. He is on his way up in the elevator as we speak," the doctor was working as he spoke, "but we'll have to get this number, oh."

Grace groaned louder.

"Oh?" Rigsby brushed her hair back and tried to comfort her with a hand on her shoulder.

"I think we can tell the anesthesiologist to pass us by."

"No," Grace sobbed, "no, we can't."

"By the time he could get the line in, your little boy would be out. Can you push from that position or do you want some help getting on your back?"

"Push?" she sounded confused.

"You don't have to, of course," he seemed to be directing the traffic that had suddenly increased in the room. "He'll come out one way or another. In fact, he is crowning already."

Rigsby was not going to look down there, but he was in awe of the miracle that was happening. He helped Grace turn on her back and then pulled her back up to himself.

"You can do this Van Pelt," he whispered in her ear. "You're the strongest woman I know."

She shook her head, "It hurts, Wayne. I can't do it."

"It may feel better to push," the doctor suggested.

So she tried.

"Good," the nurse beamed up at her. "That was a good, strong push."

Grace breathed heavily. Wayne held his arms so she could brace herself against them.

"Go ahead, Van Pelt," he urged her, "show us what you're made of."

Grace pushed harder this time. Rigsby could tell she pushed harder by the pressure against him.

She slumped back against him with such a cry of relief, he nearly toppled. Then he looked down and saw what the cry was really for. Dr. Rogan held in his hands a squirming little boy.

"That was fast," he commented as he brought the baby up to Grace's chest.

Rigsby stayed where he was and assisted the nurse in pulling the blanket over mother and child.

Grace seemed content to lay back against him.

"He's beautiful, isn't he?" she was using the corner of the blanket to wipe the fluids from the tiny face.

Wayne had never seen a newborn, and he knew the general consensus was that they were rather wrinkled and homely. However, when he looked at this child, he couldn't help but agree with the new mother.

"He is, Grace. He's beautiful."


	15. Chapter 15

After the relatively speedy birth, Rigsby was surprised to find how long it took for the doctors and nurses to clean Grace, weigh and test the baby, and leave them alone.

He removed himself from behind Grace as they took the baby to work with him.

"Do you want the head of your bed up more" he still had his arm behind her, "or would you prefer a few more pillows?"

She leaned back a little, then wiggled around, "I think the head up, thanks."

He pressed the button until she indicated she was comfortable.

There was too much activity around the bed for him to pull up a chair, so Grace scooted over to one side and patted the bed.

He sat down and watched them work on the baby.

"So, do you know what you are going to name him."

"Matthew Daniel," she watched his reaction.

Wayne looked at her in surprise, but quickly recovered, "Your dad's name is Daniel isn't it?"

She nodded.

"Is the Matthew something special?"

"It comes from his father."

Wayne swallowed hard. She knew it must be very difficult for him to hear about Matthew's father, but if he would pay attention, he might see the truth.

"Oh," apparently, he didn't get it. He started to get up, but she pulled him back down.

"Are you leaving?"

He looked down at her, "I'm just going to go call Lisbon."

She smiled.

While he was gone, she decided to call her parents. It was past six so she knew they would be up.

"Hi, Sweetie," her mother greeted. "Aren't you getting ready for work?"

"I am in the hospital," she said, swallowing the tears that threatened.

"Did you have the baby?" Lillian's voice cracked.

"Yes," the tears would not be stopped. "He's beautiful, Mom."

"Of course he is, how long ago?"

"Almost an hour now."

Lillian could be heard sniffing on the other end and calling her husband to the phone, "Let me get a piece of paper and them you can give me all the details."

Van Pelt waited as instructed. By the time her mom was ready, she had Matthew back in her arms.

"Full name?"

"Matthew Daniel Van Pelt."

Lillian laughed, "Your father is smiling at that, even if he is not saying a word."

Grace heard her father grunt at that remark.

"How big, how long?"

"He is nine pounds exactly, and is twenty-three and a half inches long."

Her mother laughed, "That is a big baby. So long."

Grace glanced at the door, "His father is tall."

"And where is his father?" the question, Grace knew was borne out of concern, but it still bit.

"Mom, please."

"Sorry," she sounded properly chastised. "Does he have hair?"

"Lots of it."

"Is it red? All you kids had red hair when you were born."

"No. It's almost black."

Lillian didn't respond. She must have known that came from the father's side as well, but she didn't want to cause further strain.

"Was Agent Lisbon with you?"

"No," Grace smiled to see Wayne coming back in, "Rigsby was."

"Rigsby? Wasn't that a bit uncomfortable?"

"Not at all. He was very helpful."

Lillian sighed and Grace thought it was time to end the conversation, "I think the nurse is going to help me feed Matthew."

"We love you, Grace," her mother said before signing off. "We'll call you to let you know when we get plane tickets."

"Okay," Grace looked up to see Rigsby coming back into the room.

"Did you get in touch with Lisbon?"

"Yep. She'll call Jane – or just go get him. I tried Cho too, but he didn't answer."

Grace nodded, "Thanks."

He came to stand next to her, touching a long finger to Matthew's cheek.

"Do you want to hold him?" she watched his face for any sign of uneasiness.

He met her gaze as he nodded his head, "I do."

The nurses had cleared out of the room. Whether Rigsby knew it or not, they were a little family here. Grace tried not to think too hard on it or she would end up in tears. She lifted the small, swaddled bundle to his father.

Wayne took him and began walking, his face so close to the child's face.

Grace couldn't hear all of what the man was saying to the being who looked so tiny in those big hands, but she caught a word or two here and there. It seemed Rigsby was offering to teach Matthew how to play football. And possibly some advice on women.

She lifted her camera from the bedside table and snapped a few pictures.

The nurse interrupted the sweet moment, "Hi, I'm Elise. Are you ready to try nursing again?"

Grace had been uncomfortable trying with Rigsby at her back and had not had much success. She was determined to make it work, however. A momentary embarrassment would not keep her from succeeding.

Rigsby looked up, "I'm going to go try Cho again," he brought the baby to his mother.

"You don't have to run away," Elise chuckled at him.

"I think Van – Grace would be more comfortable learning this without an audience," he went out into the hall.

Rigsby was able to get Cho this time. That man said he would stop by on his way to work.

The mall wasn't far from the hospital, so Rigsby decided to take a little trip.

He arrived back to find Grace watching the baby sleep in his bassinet.

"How did the feeding go?" he sat next on the foot of her bed.

"Fine. He nursed for about ten minutes on each side. They said it was good."

"Did you get something to eat?" she didn't look as tired as he would expect.

"They are sending something up in a few minutes. Did you want to order something?"

He shook his head, "I went through the drive through on the way to the mall.

She nodded at the bag, "Clean clothes?"

"Razor, toothbrush, socks. . ."

"Shorts?" she was looking down at her blanket, pulling off some imaginary fuzz.

"What?" the word had come out so softly, he thought he had mistaken it.

"You heard me," her face flushed, but her cheeky grin told him she thought it was worth her embarrassment to make him squirm.

Rigsby cleared his throat, "I'm going to go shower. Unless you need me for something."

"No, but thanks."

They both looked up as the nurse came in the door again. He wondered if they had no other patients to tend.

Rigsby closed the door behind himself and turned on the shower.

He could hear Elise speaking, "Your husband is a certainly attentive."

He could not make out Van Pelt's softer tones, but Rigsby knew she was correcting the error.

The nurse seemed undaunted, "Do you have any immediate plans?"

Rigsby climbed into the shower and stuck his head under the spray, unwilling to listen to Grace's rejection.

Grace was sitting on the edge of the bed when he came out of the bathroom.

"That was fast," she rose.

"I didn't want you to have to wait."

"The nurse said I could take a shower," she stood up, gathering her gown around the back of her.

"Do you need help with anything?"

She raised her eyebrows at him.

He cleared his throat, "That wasn't what I meant."

"Could you take my suitcase in and set it on the counter?"

He did as she asked silently.

"Are you going to be here a while?" she shifted from one foot to another.

"Would you rather I leave?"

"No," she hurried to assure him, "unless you need to go. It's seven-thirty. Maybe you need to get to work."

"No," he removed his blazer and claimed the easy chair, "I don't."

"I'm just asking because they don't want Matthew in here alone. They would take him to the nursery if you wanted to leave."

"I don't," he leaned back. "I'll stay here and take a nap with my man, Matt."

She shot him a look of disgust, "Matthew."

He grinned as he closed his eyes.

Twenty minutes later Van Pelt exited the bathroom. He looked up at her, his eyes widening.

Instead of putting on the fresh gown the nurse had brought, Van Pelt had slipped into gray yoga pants and an emerald long-sleeved t-shirt. She had brushed her damp hair and applied minimal makeup.

He stood up to take her suitcase from her hand, "You shouldn't be carrying that."

"Thanks," she went and sat in the rocker, her eyes communicating some sort of disturbance in her soul.

"You look beautiful, Grace," he shook his head. "You _are _beautiful."

"Wayne," her serious expression didn't alter, "I need to talk to you."

"Am I going to hate it?" he sat in the window seat.

"I don't think so, but you might be angry at first."

He smiled a little, "I'll try to keep an open mind."

The door flew open and Jane entered.

Lisbon and Cho were not far behind.

Wayne stood up so Lisbon could have his seat. He sat on the foot of the bed.

"Congratulations," the consultant kissed Grace's forehead before turning to the sleeping infant, "I suppose you would be upset if I woke this little guy to find out if he gets his eyes from his mama or papa."

"Jane," Lisbon made an attempt to silence him.

Grace sighed.

Cho looked down at the little bundle, the corners of his mouth pulling up slightly and briefly, "Looks healthy."

Grace smiled, "He is."

Jane picked up the infant and held him to himself, "He seems solid enough. No wonder you were so large."

"Jane," Wayne's tone warned the man not to go there.

Jane grinned, "What made you choose Matthew?"

Grace had a sneaking feeling Jane knew the answer to that.

"I mean," he handed the baby off to Lisbon who managed to look both pleased and terrified at the same time, "I understand the Daniel – your dad's name."

"I like the name," she knew exactly where he was going.

"Okay," he pulled back some of Lisbon's hair that was trailing over the baby's face.

It seemed Jane was not going to press any further. Grace allowed herself one moment of relief before he spoke up again.

"Did you know Rigsby's middle name is Matthew?"

"Really?" Lisbon looked over at Wayne.

"Um," he nodded. "Yeah, it is."

Grace tried to look innocent, "Oh, really. How interesting."

"Isn't it," Jane agreed.

The nurse came into the room, her eyes settling on the gun Rigsby had holstered against his side, "You can't carry a gun in here," she gasped. "Someone could get hurt."

Lisbon looked up from her position, "He can't not wear a gun just because he is in the hospital."

She looked at them in shock, "Well it is against our rules for people to carry guns in the hospital. I'm sure you can lock up your gun in one of the safes."

Jane laughed, "Will you make all of them lock up their guns?"

The nurse looked around, frowning, "There are more guns in here?"

Grace smothered her smile, "It's okay, Elise. They're CBI agents. They have to have them on at all times."

The nurse turned to Rigsby, "Have you been wearing one this whole time?"

He shrugged, "Not while I was in the shower."

That earned a laugh from Jane, a raised eyebrow from Lisbon, a snort from Cho, and a red face from Grace. She knew he had taken it off one other time as well, but she certainly wasn't going to mention that.

The nurse left, a look of horror on her face.


	16. Chapter 16

Rigsby found it difficult to tear himself away from Grace and Matthew.

Jane led him out by the arm, "She'll have a tough time sleeping with you here anyway."

Lisbon smiled at Jane's tactic.

Rigsby cast a glance over his shoulder, "She needs it too. She's been up since one a.m."

The team was less than productive that day. Cho was able to focus on his work, but Rigsby was too busy watching the clock, and Lisbon was too busy watching Rigsby.

Jane had slipped out in search of some clues to the current case.

Lisbon watched Rigsby flipping through the pictures on his phone – again. She had endured enough of this. She picked up her phone and hit a speed dial.

"Lisbon," Jane's voice was nearly drowned out by a noise in the background, "what a delightful surprise."

"What are you doing?"

"I'm at the train station."

"That doesn't sound like the train station," she grabbed her keys and shoved them into her blazer and headed for her door.

"Sure it does," Jane sounded slightly out of breath.

Lisbon grabbed a sheet of paper and a pen from Cho's desk and scratched, "Get some local to the zoo, ASAP."

He shot her a look that told her he knew she was speaking to Jane, but picked up the phone.

"Jane," she knew he was not going to volunteer the information, but she had to ask, "where are you?"

Cho was off the phone and she signaled for the men to follow her. Rigsby looked relieved to have something active to do.

While they sped toward the zoo, Cho talked to the PD, "I don't know what part of the zoo he's in. Probably the monkey cage."

Lisbon glared at him, "It was the screaming bird. The one that kept us from talking to Rolling last week."

Rigsby was already on the phone with the zoo to inform them of the impending arrival of the police force, "Can you tell me where the screaming bird is?"

Cho and Lisbon exchanged looks of amusement at his choice of words.

"Thanks," he surprised them by speaking to the person on the other end. See if you can get people out of that area, and when the uniforms arrive, direct them there. Also, send someone out to the south entrance to meet us."

The team found Jane in the middle of an exhibit, an angry zoo volunteer holding his knife to the consultant's throat.

"Jane," Theresa spoke as though she was simply greeting an acquaintance.

"Lisbon," he matched her tone.

"Mr. Rolling," she stepped past the uniformed officer, "you can let him go now."

"So you can shoot me? I don't think so."

"So what's your plan?"

"I'm going to take one of those nifty carts there, along with your smart mouthed consultant here, and I am going to leave."

Cho couldn't resist, "On a golf cart?"

Rolling sneered at him, "We'll have to change cars when we get clear of here."

Rigsby took a picture with his phone.

Lisbon motioned for the zookeeper to open the door to the bird cage, "Jane, you appear to be bleeding."

Jane grimaced, "It feels as though I am bleeding as well."

"You couldn't wait until I got here?" she stepped closer, the man stepped back again.

Jane stumbled along, "It was just a hunch."

She shook her head, clearly angry, "Like the hunch you had last month?"

His eyes met hers, "You mean the Jergen case? No, that was not a hunch," he frowned.

"I am talking about your hunch in the Kyle case," she could feel her own nostrils flaring.

"Oh," he grinned, "Sorry about that."

She rolled her eyes.

"I need to go to the bathroom," Jane informed Rolling.

Rolling dropped the blade just a fraction of an inch.

"Yeah, I think I'm going to throw up," he did look queasy.

"Nice try," Rolling stuck the blade tip up to Jane's Adam's apple.

Jane began to make gagging noises, and Lisbon could hear his stomach churning from where she stood.

"This is why we don't take you out in the field, Jane," Lisbon had her hands on her hips. "You always get sick."

Rolling moved slightly to avoid have Jane vomit on him. It was just enough. Jane doubled over, and a uniform jumped the man from behind.

Jane got up off the ground and dusted off his suit, "I am not going to pretend to get sick every time you need to get me out of a situation."

Lisbon looked up at him in disbelief, "Can you even hear yourself? If you wouldn't keep getting yourself in these situations, we wouldn't have to get you out."

It took two hours to wrap up the scene.

"Cho, you and Rigsby take the SUV. I'm going with Jane."

Cho didn't blink, but Rigsby couldn't resist whispering as he went by, "You must have really done it this time if she is willing to ride with you to chew you out."

"Keep to the speed limit," Lisbon warned him as she pulled the buckle around her hips.

"Of course," his assurances did nothing to instill faith.

"You told me Rigsby wasn't the father."

"What makes you think he is?"

"Are you saying he isn't?"

"I am saying something happened today to make you change your belief."

"He can't focus on anything, he's been flipping through pictures of Matthew all day, he kept calling her Grace."

"They just went through something very intimate," Jane pointed out.

"Slow down," she chided, "and that is another thing, Why did she call him? The plan all along was to call me. I even went to the class with her."

"Jealous?" he raised his eyebrows at her.

"No. Watch the road," relieved was actually a better word. She had only agreed to be Van Pelt's labor partner because Jane had pressed her to agree to it.

"I am just concerned about their relationship."

"What about it?"

"You know it isn't allowed," she folded her arms across her chest.

"Maybe he'll transfer."

Something about that struck a chord in Lisbon's mind, but she couldn't put a finger on it.

"Don't even suggest it. I never want to search for a new team member again."

"How do you think Andrews is doing?"

"He'll be fine during Grace's maternity leave, but it is different if you are looking for someone permanently."

"Nothing is permanent."

"I am well aware of that, and quit trying to change the subject."

"Why don't you just leave Van Pelt and Rigsby alone for a while? She has fourteen weeks off for maternity leave. Let's just see what develops during that time. If something happens, you can tell them one has to transfer."

Lisbon hated to admit it, but there was a great deal of sense in his words.

"I know," he pulled into the CBI parking lot.

"What?" she already knew what he was talking about. For a man who claimed to not be a psychic, he sure read her mind a lot.

"You're trying to avoid admitting it makes sense."

She unbuckled and started to get out, but he grabbed at her hand, "Theresa."

She looked back at him.

"Thanks for coming to get me."

She blushed and tried to retrieve her hand, but he held fast.

He pulled her closer toward himself and brushed a kiss against her cheek.

She jerked back, surprised.

"Nothing is permanent, Lisbon," he reminded her. "Not even mourning."

Lisbon couldn't take her eyes off him, but she fumbled around behind herself for the door handle, "I need to go and write up the report."

Jane watched her leave, a smile ghosting over his lips.


	17. Chapter 17

Wayne was on his way to the hospital the instant Lisbon released him.

He stopped by the flower shop and picked up a bouquet and some balloons. He felt a little silly carrying them through the hospital, but he knew Grace would appreciate them.

"Are you here to see Miss Van Pelt?" the nurse in the hall stopped him.

He grinned, "Yes. Or is she sleeping?"

"I don't think so, but I think she is trying to nurse the baby right now."

Part of him wanted to see Grace nursing her son. It wasn't a sexual thing. It was more that he enjoyed seeing this new side of Grace. The mother side.

"Would you mind checking? Tell her I'll wait."

"Your name?"

"Wayne."

She knocked and entered the room.

"Grace," the nurse was standing just inside the door, "A gentleman named Wayne is here to see you. He said to tell you he will wait if you are nursing."

Another voice – that of the nurse from this morning – spoke, "She should be done soon. I think Matthew is going to sleep."

Rigsby smiled at the mental picture.

Grace's gentle voice carried out to the hall, "Go wait for me in the lounge, Rigsby. I can come and get you."

The nurse he met in the hall came out and smiled at him, "She's just wrapping up."

Wayne started toward the lounge area but stopped when he realized he was still holding the bouquet. If he left it with the nurse, he wouldn't look so stupid roaming the halls. He turned to go back. She had gone into another room, but perhaps she would be out quickly. He decided to wait.

"Do you think he looks more like his father or you?" Elise asked.

Wayne hated that the nurse even brought that up. It was bound to hurt Grace.

"I don't know," her voice didn't sound like she was offended. "I think like his daddy, at least I hope so."

Wayne felt a knot growing in his stomach. Grace had to acknowledge that the absent man was the father, but a daddy?

"I can see how much that man loves you."

Grace said nothing. Wayne leaned against the door frame. Matthew's father had been in to see them?

"Do you plan on getting married?"

"It's complicated."

Rigsby wondered if the man was married.

"But you love him," the nurse's innocent comment made it sound so simple.

"Oh, yes," Grace sounded like she was coming toward the door. Wayne hurried away, and missed what she said after that.

"I told you I would come get you," she smiled at him as he approached.

Rigsby forced a grin on to his face, but he knew she would see through it, "I wasn't sure what you were going to do with Matt."

She took his arm, "Matthew," she reminded him gently.

Rigsby led her back toward her room, "These are for you," he wiggled the bouquet.

She chewed her lower lip, "Thank you."

Rigsby wondered if there was a chance he could still win Van Pelt's heart. She certainly liked him, but maybe her mind was so settled on him as a friend there was no possibility of anything else.

She walked into her room and took the flowers from him – setting them on the table, "Did you get the pictures I sent?"

"Of the bath?" he held up his phone, "Yes."

She smiled and sat down next to the bassinet.

"Are you two going to walk around out there or are you staying in here?"

Wayne looked down at Grace for the answer.

"I am a little tired of being cooped up in the room," she admitted.

The nurse turned the bassinet toward the door, "I'll go take this young man to the nursery so we nurses can coddle him. You two go stretch your legs."

Wayne began to remove his sport coat, but the nurse held up a hand, "You might want to leave your jacket on."

Wayne frowned, "Why?"

"To cover up your," she dropped her voice to a whisper, "your gun."

Grace and Wayne both laughed.

"It caused such a stir this morning I left that holster in my car," he removed his blazer and showed her.

"Oh," the nurse looked so relieved, "that's good. It is so disconcerting knowing there's a gun on the floor."

Grace shook her head, "He said he dumped the holster – not the gun."

"So where is it?"

Rigsby wasn't about to answer that, but as he led Grace from the room, he felt her hand patting his lower back, and thought he saw Grace wink at the nurse.

"Grace," he whispered. "Are you feeling me up?"

She blushed, but still managed a sassy reply, "Just frisking you, Agent Rigsby."

He glanced behind himself at the nurse standing in the door. He wondered what she thought of Grace now. In love with one man, but patting the rear end of another.


	18. Chapter 18

Rigsby was out of town when Grace's parents arrived to see Matthew. He regretted not meeting them, but he had to remain on his stakeout. The rest of the team – including the new guy – actually went over to Grace's apartment for supper to meet her family.

"I understand you are missing one of your team mates," Dan Van Pelt addressed Lisbon.

"Rigsby," she acknowledged. "He's on assignment."

"So what is he like?" Lillian joined the conversation. "The rest of you seem so diverse, I'm interested to know how he fits into this group."

"Homely," Jane was leaning back into the couch, one ankle resting on the opposite thigh, "a bit stupid. Kind of a scrawny, sickly looking thing."

Lisbon frowned at him.

Grace's scowl was deeper, though, "He is not, Mom. Don't believe Jane."

Lisbon defended her missing man, "He's a valuable asset to the team, Mrs. Van Pelt, or we wouldn't have him."

Lillian smiled at the brunette, "And how does Mr. Jane fit into the picture? I hear stories from Grace that nearly curl my toes."

Jane grinned, "Writing home about me, Grace?"

She lifted a sleeping baby from her father's arms, "Only when I need to vent."

Dan watched the exchange between Jane and his daughter. When he came out here, he hoped he would find the father of her child and speak a few words with him. It occurred to him that it might be Patrick Jane from all the times he heard his wife mention his name. This was not the man, however. For one thing, his hair color and build were all wrong. For another thing, the man was obviously more interested in the boss than the younger woman.

Jane helped clean up after supper, but then went to find Grace's father who had left the house to wander the neighborhood.

"Nice night," Dan glanced at the smaller man.

"It is," Patrick shoved his hands into his pockets. "I'm glad you realized right away that Matthew isn't mine."

"What?"

"Of course the thought crossed your mind," Patrick was bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet, "but you dismissed it easily enough."

Dan cleared his throat, "Do you know the father?"

"I know who he is," Jane admitted that much.

"I need to talk to him."

Jane held up a finger, "There's something interesting about needs. We may think we need something, but it turns out that would have been bad for us."

"Nice philosophy lesson."

"I speak from experience."

"Oh?"

"But that isn't the issue right now. I'm afraid you aren't going to meet Matthew's father this time out."

"How do you know?"

"I know, just as sure as I know that you plan on doing more than talking to the young man."

Dan scrubbed his hand over his mouth, "I don't mind talking if it gets the job done."

"What would you say if I told you he want to marry her but only if she quits her job and stays home with the baby?" Patrick pushed the man a little.

"He's a fool if he thinks that," Dan growled. "She worked hard to get where she is."

"What if I told you he'd marry her tomorrow if she would just say yes?"

"Even with her job?"

"Even with her job."

"He's a good man?"

"Yes."

Dan turned away from Jane and folded his arms across his chest. Jane walked away.


	19. Chapter 19

Grace could feel Wayne pulling away from her. He still wanted to be with Matthew, but he didn't seem to be pushing her for any kind of relationship. It was painful, but she reasoned it may just be for the best. If he couldn't admit to his feelings without the help of Jane's hypnosis, he probably wasn't ready for more than the one-night-stand.

"So," Rigsby sat in the rocker making faces at the small child on his lap, "you come back to work tomorrow."

"Just part time," Grace knew she was a wreck. If she had known he was coming over today, she would have done her hair or put on some lip gloss.

"Tuesdays and Thursdays?"

"Yeah," she tried to finger comb her locks while he was distracted by the baby, "a woman from my church is going to take him those two days."

"That's nice."

"Hey, Rigsby," she was about to lie, but she couldn't stop herself, "do you think you could watch him so I could get a shower? He's been fussy all day, and I haven't been able to put him down."

"This man?" Wayne lifted the baby up, earning him a toothless grin, "I can't believe this man would ever be fussy."

"Well," she looked down a moment before forcing her eyes back to him, "yeah. You're holding him."

"Go ahead," Rigsby laughed. "We need a little man to man anyway."

Grace raced into her bathroom and turned on the shower. That part was true anyway. She just hadn't bothered because other things seemed more important. She showered, braided her hair, applied some makeup, and dressed in a pair of skinny jeans that finally fit again and a sleeveless black shirt.

"Wow," Rigsby's eyes widened, "I feel like I should take you out instead of ordering in."

"Ordering in?" her brow furrowed.

"I thought you'd like a restful evening just before your big day back," he folded a towel.

That was when Van Pelt noticed that Rigsby had taken her laundry from the dryer and folded the entire load of whites. He was now working on the colored basket she hadn't managed to fold yet.

"You didn't have to do all this," she pointed to the laundry and Matthew.

"I don't mind, Grace."

She chewed her lip for a moment, "Wayne?"

"Yeah?" he looked up from the burp rag he was folding in half.

"Do you think you could. . ."

She didn't finish her statement because the doorbell rang.

Rigsby jumped to his feet, "That's supper."

He dealt with the delivery so quickly, Grace didn't have time to offer to pay.

For the rest of the evening, Grace tried to regain her lost courage, but she never did. After he left she tossed and turned in her bed, wondering how Wayne would have reacted had she finished telling him the truth.


	20. Chapter 20

Patrick leaned into Lisbon's office, "Our little mascot is here."

Lisbon looked up, "Where's Rigsby?"

Jane slipped in and closed the door behind himself, "He's holding Matthew."

Lisbon sighed, "I had hoped one of them would come and talk to me about their relationship now that Van Pelt is back at work."

"They aren't really in a relationship," Jane leaned against the edge of her desk, looking down at her.

She clearly did not believe him.

"He goes over there a couple times a week. He claims it is to see Matthew. Sometimes he babysits. They aren't sleeping together, he hasn't admitted how he feels, she hasn't told him the truth about Matthew."

Lisbon stood up, her face at the same level as Jane's, "Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"How does Van Pelt feel about that?"

"Frustrated," he didn't need to expand on that.

"And Rigsby?"

"He still thinks he is trying to win her away from Matthew's father."

She folded her arms across her chest, "I recall a time when you told me it wasn't Rigsby."

"I never did," he gently pried her arms away from herself. "I told you to watch his reaction."

"And you swore his response meant he wasn't the father."

"What it meant, dear Lisbon, is that he didn't know."

She snorted, "Even if he thought there was someone else, which I doubt, how could he think that now? Matthew looks just like him."

"You can't see it unless you are looking for it," Jane wondered how far he was going to have to go before Lisbon figured it out and became furious with him.

"But he'd be looking for it," she knew he was leading her somewhere, but it was so unclear.

"Most men would."

She rolled her eyes, "Any man who had slept with a woman would be watching for it unless he knew for sure."

Jane pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. He loved to watch her process things.

"Jane," she swatted at his hand, "where are you going with this?"

He grabbed her hand and held it, "Nowhere."

She didn't resist his grip, "He isn't looking for the signs because he thinks it isn't possible."

Jane's thumb ran in circles around the back of her hand.

"He doesn't think it is possible because," she stopped and frowned.

He lifted her fingers to his lips.

"Are you trying to hypnotize me, Jane?" she leaned in toward him.

"No," he took his free hand and slid it into the hair at the back of her neck and pulled her face toward his. His lips claimed hers as her hand slid up to his shoulder.

She pulled back first, "Jane," her breathing was faster than normal and she had trouble formulating the right words, "this is . . .wrong."

"Wrong?" he leaned forward and brushed her lips again.

She used both hands to push away from him, "You did hypnotize me."

"No," he assured her, almost offended by the accusation, "I did not. I just kissed you."

She covered her mouth with her hand and stared at him.

"I'd like to do it again," he admitted.

"You can't, it is. . ." her eyes went from shocked to angry. "That's why Rigsby doesn't know."

Jane stood up, "I hate to think why kissing me reminded you of Rigsby," but he was grinning.

"Patrick Jane," she stuck a finger in his chest, "you hypnotized Rigsby, and he can't remember that night."

Jane was surprised at how long it took her.

"That's why he was coming to talk to me about transferring."

"I honestly didn't know he was going to. . .that they would. . ."

"What did you tell him to do?"

Jane grabbed her hand and held it despite her attempt to reclaim it. He led her to the couch and sat down.

"The night he was hypnotized and Grace tried to talk him down, Cho and I told him that he had kissed Van Pelt earlier."

"You didn't," those two apparently lacked a clutch between the brain and mouth.

"He didn't believe us, but after Cho left, he told me he wished he could tell her how he felt. He didn't want to pursue a relationship because he knew her job was as important to her as his was to him."

"And?" Lisbon was watching their joined hands.

"_I think she already knows. You did kiss her in front of everyone," Jane's serious tone conveyed the truth of his statement._

"_It's not the same thing."_

"_I could help you with that."_

_Rigsby looked doubtful, "It won't make me do anything stupid like go stand outside her house and sing pop songs?"_

"_I can help you relax – just enough so you can tell her what you just told me."_

"I guess that didn't quite work out according to plan," she scoffed.

"Things usually don't."

She pulled her hand from his and leaned forward, "He deserves to know."

"And he deserves to hear it from her."

They were quiet for a moment. Jane watched her think. He knew she was thinking about the kiss even if she was pretending to think about Rigsby and Van Pelt.

"I love you, Theresa," his soft voice caught her by surprise.

She did not burst into tears or turn around and gape at him. She just closed her eyes and pressed two fingers over each lid.

He mimicked her position, leaning forward, elbows on knees, "Have I put you through too much to hope you might consider a relationship?"

"We have a relationship," she reminded him without moving her hands. "A working relationship."

"And that's all you want?" he held his breath while he waited for her to answer.

She looked him in the eye, "No," he felt a moment of elation before she smashed it to pieces, "but it has to be enough."

He rose without a word and left her office.

"Grace," he forced a smile, "your little man gets bigger every time I see him."

"We just got back from his six month visit. He weighs twenty-two pounds."

Rigsby was back at his desk, but Jane could see him smiling at the information. He decided to stir things up a bit.

"I bet you were a big baby, Rigsby."

The younger man looked surprised, "Me? Sure. I was nearly ten pounds when I was born."

Grace put her fingertips to her forehead in an act of long-suffering.

Jane turned back to her, "What brings you by here on a Friday?"

"I just wanted to show you how Matthew was growing," she played the baby card, but Jane had watched her looking at Rigsby enough to know better.

"I'm sure we all appreciate it."

Grace smiled, "Is the boss in?"

Jane hid a wince, "Yeah. I think she has a headache, though. That's why she didn't come out."

Cho spoke up, "Is it a Jane-induced headache?"

Jane spun and looked at the man, eyes meeting in silent battle.

"Maybe I shouldn't take Matthew in to see her then," Grace sounded disappointed

"Actually," Jane turned back to her, "that would probably help."

Van Pelt noticed his odd behavior but didn't comment. It was Jane, after all. He was always odd, and, if something was wrong, he was the last person likely to admit it. She pushed her stroller out of the pathway before going to knock on the office door.

"Hi, Van Pelt," Lisbon held out her hands for the squirming baby. "Uff. He's heavy."

"Jane said you had a headache," Van Pelt followed her into the office. "We don't want to bother you."

"Nah," the senior agent blew on Matthew's neck, "this is probably just what the doctor ordered."

"That's what Jane said," Grace took a seat.

"Jane thinks he knows me so well," Lisbon grumped.

"He sees things," Grace admitted.

"So do the rest of us," Lisbon ran a finger around the soft face. "Like how much this baby looks like his daddy."

Van Pelt's face dropped.

"He deserves to know, Grace."

"How am I supposed to tell him when he can't even remember the night?"

"Make Jane tell him," Lisbon grumbled before realizing she shouldn't have said that.

Grace ignored the remark anyway, "Cho knows too?"

"I suppose so."

"Minelli?"

"I doubt he's gotten that good a look at Matthew."

"I'll tell him, but I want to wait until after my parents visit. I need to get ready for them, and I think the telling is going to take longer than just getting the words out."

"I'm sure you're right."

"My brother, Luke, is coming too."


	21. Chapter 21

Grace had planned to introduce Rigsby to her family this time, but if Matthew looked as much like him as Lisbon said, it was probably not a good idea.

She planned to keep them busy enough so there would be no time to spare.

"I don't mind coming down to headquarters with you, dear," Lillian offered. "I'll just visit with Mr. Jane."

"Jane is probably out making trouble for the department, Mom. You and Dad stay here. I'll take Luke down and show him around. He can bother Cho while I work on my project. It shouldn't take me more than an hour."

"Cho seems like a serious guy," Dan commented.

"He has good focus," was Grace's response.

Two reasons Grace felt comfortable bringing her brother to headquarters: her family claimed Matthew looked just like her as a baby – excepting the blue eyes – and Rigsby was probably going to be assigned to babysit Jane today since Lisbon had meetings with the higher ups today.

"This is pretty impressive, Gracie," he looked around as they walked through the building. "Do you have your own office?"

She laughed, "I'm grateful to have my own desk."

She sat down and turned on her computer, "You could go check out the gym."

"Okay," Luke and Aaron had both played football, basketball, baseball, and soccer while in high school. If it involved a ball, sweat, and a bit of blood here and there, they joined. He would enjoy messing around in the gym more than waiting for her.

She gave him directions.

She was nearly through with her report when Jane came wandering around the corner. She stood suddenly, "What are you doing here?"

He cocked his head, "You have something to hide?"

"No, it's not that. Where's Rigsby? Is he with you?"

"He was," Jane took a sip of his tea, "but he said he had been cooped up too long waiting for me."

Grace locked her computer and threw the strap of her purse over her shoulder, "And so?" she dreaded the answer.

"He was going to go to the gym for a while," the words hadn't left his mouth before Van Pelt was running for the stairs.

Jane didn't know what was afoot, but he wasn't going to miss it.

Grace knew she had to get to her brother before her brother got to Wayne. Luke, the more hot-headed of her two brothers – was at least as tall as Wayne, but probably had twenty pounds on the agent. Nonetheless, Wayne was trained to fight. The result was not going to be pretty.

As Grace took the stairs to the basement, Luke was introducing himself to Wayne.

"You look familiar," he approached Rigsby who was throwing punches at a bag.

"You do too," Wayne puffed out between punches. "You been with the department long?"

"No – just visiting. I'm here with my sister, Grace Van Pelt."

Wayne stopped his actions and looked at the man, "You're Van Pelt's brother," he took off a glove and extended his hand, "Rigsby. Nice to meet you."

Luke narrowed his eyes, but shook Wayne's hand, "You're pretty tall."

Wayne raised his eyebrows. The observation was strange coming from a man Luke Van Pelt's size.

"Do you, by any chance, play football?"

Wayne took off the other glove and threw both to the floor, taking a moment to use the tail of his shirt to rid his forehead of sweat.

"Does the question bother you?" Luke folded his arms across his chest.

"No," Rigsby began walking toward the locker room, "but your delivery does."

Luke stood his ground, "So you didn't play college football?"

Rigsby had no idea what the man's problem was, but he couldn't see any harm in answering the question.

"Yes. I got a scholarship."

"Any particular reason my sister carries around a picture of you in her wallet."

Wayne was a bit taken back by that tidbit, but then realized the man had just admitted to going through Grace's purse, "My relationship with your sister is between your sister and me. It's our business, not yours."

"I'm making it my business," Luke stepped forward, a move any man would recognize as the threat it was.

Rigsby stood his ground, "I'm going to go take a shower. I suggest you use that time to cool off."

Grace arrived in the gym just in time to see Luke land a punch on Rigsby's jaw.

She screamed, but only Jane heard her. She would have run into the middle of the fray, but the consultant grabbed her arm while pulling the phone from his pocket, "They are not even going to see you, and you'll get hurt," he warned.

Grace watched Rigsby startle back before lunging forward, tackling the larger man.

Jane called Cho who would, undoubtedly, call for backup and get Lisbon down there.

Rigsby had Luke down on the ground, and was pinning him with a knee to the neck. It appeared he was trying to subdue him without causing any damage.

Grace pulled her cuffs from behind herself, hoping she could reach her brother before he got up.

It wasn't to be. Luke managed to throw Rigsby off of himself and then kneed the agent in the back. Wayne rolled over and attempted to stand.

"Leave him alone!" Grace was close enough to hear the sound of her brother's fists hitting Rigsby.

"Stay out of this, Grace," her brother warned.

Rigsby was crouched over. He grabbed an ankle and yanked hard. Then he grabbed a shoulder, rolled the man on his face, and drew Luke's arms up behind him. Grace offered her cuffs which Rigsby promptly used.

He staggered a little, still looking confused.

"Wayne," she stepped over her brother and reached out to her fellow agent, "I am so sorry."

He shook his head and pulled away from her, "What was that about?"

Grace looked at Jane who just shrugged. By the time she looked back to Rigsby, he was headed for the locker room."

Luke had managed to sit up even with the cuffs on, "Afraid for your lover, Grace? Is that why you gave him my cuffs?"

She stood above him and glared, "If he hadn't held back, you would have been on your way to the hospital or the morgue by now. He was trying to restrain you – not hurt you."

Van Pelt turned on her heel and strode toward the men's room. She passed Lisbon and Cho, but Jane could explain the situation.

"I'm coming in!" she hollered at any unsuspecting men.

Nobody answered so she figured she was safe. She found Wayne sitting on a bench near the back of the locker room, his shirt off, and a towel pressed to his bleeding lip. His face was already starting to color. Assuming the men's room was stocked in the same way as the women's, she looked in the freezer for an ice pack.

"Thanks," he put it up to his jaw.

She sat down next to him, "I need to tell you something that I should have told you a long time ago."

He looked down at her, "Insanity runs in your family?"

She laughed through the tears that were already falling, "Not that I know of."

"Rigsby?" Cho's voice sounded through the locker room.

"Yeah?" he stood up and looked like he was going to walk away.

Cho looked at the two of them, "Lisbon says to get it out now. I'll be standing at the door to keep out any surprises."

Grace knew there was no longer any chance of interruption. She wasn't sure if she should be relieved or terrified.

Rigsby sat back down, "What is it, Grace?"

"You are going to be angry, but please promise me you won't do anything rash."

"Angry?"

She nodded.

He turned to straddle the bench and look at her, "I don't think I could be angry with you, Grace, but I'll promise not to do anything rash."

She took a deep breath, "Also, I need you not to interrupt. It is really complicated, and I'll explain it all, but, please just let me tell you."

"Okay," he threw the ice pack down to focus on her.

"About a year and a half ago, you came over to my place and told me you were in love with me."

He frowned, but she put up a finger and he held his tongue.

"The next day you told me you were going to ask for a transfer so we could be together. When you told Lisbon that, she thought something was up, so she asked Jane if he had hypnotized you. After you came out of it, you didn't remember a thing."

He had to interrupt now, "Was this after I supposedly kissed you while hypnotized?"

"It was after that case, yes."

"So, what does this have to do with your brother?"

"Matthew."

"Matthew?"

"Even with the pain of knowing you couldn't remember," Grace's eyes begged him to understand, "I wouldn't trade that night, Wayne. I love you so much, but if I can never have you," she choked and had to stop for a moment, "if I can't have you, at least I have Matthew."

Rigsby leaned back, "Matthew is. . ?"

Grace picked up Rigsby's discarded towel and wiped her nose and eyes, "I was afraid you would take care of him out of a sense of duty. I hoped you would come and tell me you love me while you were awake. I didn't know what to say," she stopped talking and buried her face in the towel.

Rigsby stood up and turned away from her. It was too much to take in. His mind didn't even know where to begin.

"Your brother knows?"

"He must have guessed," she murmured.

"You have a picture of me in your wallet," he looked down at her.

"I took it at the hospital."

"I was holding Matthew?"

"No," she admitted with a sheepish smile.

"Matthew is my son?"

She nodded. He seemed to be taking it well, but appearances could be deceiving.

"Jane sent the flowers," he guessed.

She laughed a little, "I'm surprised you remembered those."

"They have haunted me. I figured they were from the father."

"They were an apology."

He sat back down, "Did the night need an apology?"

Van Pelt recognized the vulnerability in the question, "Absolutely not. It was one of the most beautiful nights of my life."

His lips made a move to smile but never quite pulled it off, "I do love you, Grace. I'm so sorry you've had to go through this alone."

"I've never been alone in it, Wayne. You have been there for me since day one."

He looked her in the eye, "Does everyone know?"

"Jane, of course, Lisbon, Cho," she responded with a nod. "He looks so much like you."

He put his hands in his face, "And your brother."

She couldn't argue with that.

"Do you have any idea how humiliating it is to be in this position? I slept with you, and I'm the last to know."

"I'm sorry."

Wayne sat looking down at the crack in the concrete. Grace watched him, her heart feeling as though it was going to beat out of her chest. She could read the emotions on his face: anger, sorrow, embarrassment.

Finally, he reached for her hand, "It's not entirely your fault. If I hadn't been a coward before the incident, it might have made a difference. Jane should have known something like this could happen. I could have gotten on my knees at the hospital and begged you to let me be Matthew's father."

She laughed.

He pulled her toward himself, "Don't laugh. I was ready to do it, but I overheard you telling the nurse you were in love with Matthew's father."

"I am," she leaned her head against his shoulder. He grunted.

Grace sat up and looked at him in alarm, "I'm sorry," she leaned back and took a good look at his side.

"He really did a number on your back."

Rigsby tried to turn around a look, but even that motion hurt.

"Thank you for not hurting him," she stood behind him and began inspecting him for more bruises.

"Should I be offended that you think I couldn't take him down?"

Van Pelt put her hands on Rigsby's shoulders and kissed the top of his head, "Oh, I know you could have, and I told him so."

He smiled at her confidence in him, "I was glad for the cuffs anyway.

"Do you want me to get down the first aid kit?"

He shook his head, "I don't think they will do much for the bruising."

"Ibuprofen?"

"I'll get it. You go and tell Lisbon you did as she commanded."

She threaded her fingers through his hair and gave a little tug, "I didn't need to be told. I just wanted to wait until my parents left."

He tipped his head up and looked at her, "Why don't you want me to meet your family?"

Grace slid her hands down to his shoulders and then his chest and rested her chin on his head, "I'd love for you to meet them, but I was trying to avoid an ugly scene."

She felt the chuckle in his chest before she heard it.

"I know," she stood up and stepped over the bench. "Stupid, considering this."

"Can I meet them now?"

"If you think you can do so without getting into more trouble," she began walking away. "We'll have supper at seven."

"Tell your brother not to come at me."

"Oh, he's not leaving here tonight," Van Pelt assured Rigsby.

"Grace," he stood up, calling her back.

She turned back to look at him.

"I know that I've kissed you before, but I don't remember. It's like we're talking about a different person."

She walked back to him and put her hands gently to his bruised face. Standing on tiptoe, Grace pressed her lips to Rigsby's.

He encircled her with his arms, "Was that a mercy kiss?"

She swatted his chest, "I didn't want to hurt your lip."

He leaned down and demonstrated that his lip was just fine.


	22. Chapter 22

"All done?" Cho didn't mention that it took a long time.

"Thanks," she looked across the gym and noticed a figure seated on a weight bench.

"Lisbon left you a gift," he pointed in the direction of the figure slouching against a wall.

She smiled at him, but it didn't reach her eyes, "I appreciate it."

"What took you so long?" Luke always had been a bit of a whiner.

"I was apologizing profusely and begging him not to press charges."

"For what?"

"Assault on a peace officer."

Luke rolled his eyes, "Can we go?"

"I can. You have to stay overnight. "

"What?"

"He wants to think about it."

"You've got to be kidding."

"Let's go," she indicated the door, "I need to get back to Matthew."

"What are you going to tell Mom and Dad?" he asked as they walked through the halls.

"That I have company coming for supper."

"Who?"

"Rigsby."

Luke swore.

"I'm hoping a home cooked meal will soften him up a bit."

"Yeah, right."

Matthew was sleeping when she arrived. Grace was grateful for her parents' full attention.

"Where's Luke?"

"In jail," Grace dropped her purse on the table.

"What?" her mother dropped the dish rag in the sink and turned fully to look at her daughter.

"He picked a fight with an agent."

Dan looked up from his paper, "While he was with you?"

"I sent him to the gym, and he attacked Agent Rigsby."

"Your team member, Rigsby?"

Grace nodded, "It's a good thing Wayne realized Luke was my brother, or he may have really hurt him."

"Wayne?" Lillian frowned.

"Agent Rigsby."

Dan stood up, "I've never heard you call another agent by their first name."

"It's different with Rigsby," Grace was about to head into the lion's den.

Her father folded his arms across his chest, "Why?"

"Because I love him," she took a deep breath, "and he's Matthew's father."

Lillian closed her eyes. Dan turned away from the women.

"He's coming to supper," may as well take the bull by the horns.

"So, now he wants to be involved?"

"He always has been," Grace was glad it was the truth because she could never lie to her father, "He took me to appointments, was with me during the birth, and has been great with Matthew."

"Is he make support payments?" Dan was not about to calm down.

"I'd prefer our financial arrangement remain private," Grace shot back at him.

"That means no," he clenched his jaw.

Grace planted her feet and her fists, "No, it doesn't. It means I don't have to talk to you about it. I haven't asked for money or any other kind of help from you. Therefore, you have no business sticking your nose into what is between Agent Rigsby and me."

"Dan," Lillian interceded, "look at this place. It's twice as big as her last one. Grace is only working part time. Do you really think she could afford this without some help?"

Grace breathed a sigh of relief. In truth, this apartment was cheaper because the original tenants were subletting it so they could go to Japan for two years.

Rigsby showed up a little early, flowers in hand.

Grace saw him pull up, "Can you finish Matthew's squash with him, Mom."

She ran outside to greet him.

He accepted her kiss with a little trepidation, "Am I entering hostile territory?"

She probed his jaw gently to test the swelling, "My mother is determined to like you."

He pulled her fingers down and held them, "But your father is determined not to?"

She glanced up at the window from which, both her parents were watching.

"He's determined to take your measure."

Wayne slid his arm around her waist and urged her forward, "Better get started, then."

Lillian was holding Matthew when the couple arrived. Matthew took one look at Rigsby and started wiggling.

"Hi, there Matt. How's my man today?"

Lillian handed him over and Wayne planted a raspberry on the baby's neck.

"How come he gets to call him Matt?" Dan asked, obviously amused.

"I can't get him to stop," Van Pelt said loudly enough for Wayne to hear.

He grinned back at her, "_Matt _likes it."

"We've never had a Matthew in our family," Lillian said as she started putting food on the table. "Traditionally, we name out children after family members, but she broke the mold with that one."

Wayne caught Grace's eye and smiled, "It's my middle name."

Lillian beamed, "How nice."


	23. Chapter 23

**This is the final chapter. Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing. I have enjoyed both the criticism and the praise.**

"Did you have a nice visit with your parents?" Lisbon looked up as Van Pelt came into the office.

"I did," she glanced at Jane sitting on the couch.

"Now what?"

"I'm coming to request a transfer to the drug force."

Lisbon made a face.

"You knew it was coming," Jane spoke up. "After all, rules are rules, Theresa."

Van Pelt turned around and smirked at Jane.

"I thought there was only a desk job available there," Theresa stood to get a form from her filing cabinets.

"That's okay. I'm only going to be working three days a week. Rigsby and I discussed it and decided it was for the best."

"And your career?" Lisbon knew Grace was not of the mind that a career was all important, but she had to ask.

"I'll keep my options open," Grace shrugged, "but I don't want someone else raising Matthew."

Lisbon handed the form to Grace, "Fill this out and bring it back to me."

Grace nodded.

"We'll miss you," Lisbon stood up and extended her hand.

"Meh," Jane stood as well, "we'll get by."

Grace lifted a corner of her mouth in a sly smile, "I'll miss you too," she put her hand on the door, "but Jane."

"Yes?"

"I don't think that shade of lipstick does anything for you. You'd best leave it to Lisbon."

She could hear Lisbon's groan and Jane's laughter even after the door closed.


End file.
